The space inside the Wizard's Book was expanding day by day, because Sean kept grinding proficiency for it without stopping.
Now, the Wizard's Book had reached [Beginner]. At this pace, Sean could produce two master-level, high-tier alchemical creations as early as his second year.
If he completed the last category, he would become an Alchemy Master in second year.
Which also meant his trump cards would be far richer—giving him far more ways to respond to the magical world's accidents and dangers.
Aside from that, he had been weighing how to bring it up to Grandpa Marcus—how to ask for a practice match.
And so time reached the morning of the third day.
Marcus was lounging on his usual sofa, reading the paper, thin ribbons of steam curling up from his red tea.
"Grandpa Marcus…"
The moment Sean spoke, Marcus folded the newspaper at once and met the boy's gaze with a smiling, expectant look.
After hearing what Sean wanted, he hesitated—just a little. He hadn't forgotten how bedraggled he'd been last time.
"Looks like you've made another big leap forward," Marcus said cautiously. "That's… truly reassuring."
"I've only gained a little," Sean answered honestly.
"Good! Then use the strongest magic you've got—because you should know, your Grandpa Marcus was once praised by the Auror Office as the most unbreakable wall there is!"
Marcus immediately brimmed with confidence.
Sure, his dear little Green was a once-in-history prodigy—but even a prodigy couldn't be that unreasonable, right?
A twelve-year-old wizard defeating an old Auror who'd fought on the front lines for ten years—there was no such thing in the wizarding world.
Sean felt his own excitement rise. As they headed for the fields, he opened his panel:
[Name: Sean Green]
[Transfiguration Talent: Purple (Transfiguration Master title applied). Note: Most wizards are Green]
[Transfiguration Categories:]
Magical Transfiguration: Beginner (70/900)
Material Transfiguration: Adept (50/3000)
Soul Transfiguration: Adept (200/3000)
[Evaluation: A wizard who has reached Mastery in Transfiguration. Combat power is beginning to show among Masters, possessing a Transfiguration foundation unimaginable to those below Mastery.]
Master-level transfiguration—and considering his physique wasn't especially outstanding…
Overall, he should be able to barely contend with an elite Auror.
Sean looked further down:
[Dark Magic Talent: Gold (Dark Magic Saint title applied). Note: Most wizards are Green]
Impediment Jinx: Master (700/?)
Full Body-Bind: Master (100/?)
Sectumsempra: Master (300/?)
Blasting Curse: Expert (2000/9000)
…
[Advance: 7 Master-level Dark spells unlock the Dark Magic Master title]
[Evaluation: A historically rare genius in Dark Magic. Dark Magic will actively embrace you—you are a born Dark Magic king.]
Dark magic was always where Sean spent the least time and gained the most.
Even without emotional amplification, his understanding of dark arts was almost absurd—learn once, master quickly; practice a little, refine it fast.
Not to mention that lately he'd been serving detention in the dungeons often.
His dark magic progress rose about as quickly as Professor Snape's mood shifts.
By now, he already had three master-level dark spells. At this rate, he might become a Dark Magic Master by third year.
That was… more or less keeping up with the plan.
The only question was whether he could beat an elite Auror like Marcus.
By the time that thought finished, they had reached a wide, open stretch of ground.
"Give it everything you've got!" Marcus raised his wand, visibly fired up.
"I'm starting," Sean said.
"Come on—show me what you've improved—" Marcus shouted.
"Impedimenta."
"Petrificus Totalus."
Sean's wand cut across the air. A gray-white flash passed in an instant.
The elder wand seemed to have gone a long time without being allowed to let loose. The entire shaft trembled faintly—without disrupting the spell.
"Finite Incantatem!"
"Protego!"
Marcus stayed calm.
But he had clearly forgotten one thing.
Last time they dueled, the boy had been practicing Animagus work and used silent spells. This time, Sean was speaking the incantations aloud.
Everyone knew that spoken spells carried more force than silent ones.
"Something's wrong…"
Marcus Apparated in a blink.
Where he had stood, the barley on the ground slowed—then locked rigid, as if petrified.
"Not bad—but this level isn't enough, kid!" Marcus called.
"I understand, Grandpa Marcus." Sean nodded.
Then, as if he'd made a decision, he opened his eyes again—and the sharpness in his gaze deepened.
"Dragon, spread your wings—"
Sean angled his wand upward like a command.
Under Marcus's stunned stare, he saw something terrifying:
A five-meter-tall fire dragon made of flame—red, roaring, with a ring of thin, strange little spikes around its face—was blasting mushroom-shaped fireclouds into the sky.
But it wasn't over. Sean focused and drove his wand down.
"Stone Sentinel, advance—"
Marcus couldn't feel his legs. He suspected they were trembling.
He couldn't move at all—only watch as a five-meter stone statue surged up from the earth and charged him. Each step shook the ground.
Across from him, Sean's face turned pale.
Those two magical transfigurations were already pushing him toward his limit.
But he still had a little mental room left.
As for those two spells—long ago, after he'd gotten Professor Dumbledore's notes, after he'd become a Transfiguration Master…
He once thought transfiguration had become deep and sluggish at its highest levels.
But after grasping ritual magic, he suddenly realized: why couldn't transfiguration be treated as a ritual?
Just because wizards hadn't found the right incantations and casting gestures didn't mean they didn't exist.
So "Dragon, spread your wings" became his first experiment.
Like "Stone Sentinel, advance," it sharply reduced the mental strain he had to pay.
"Grandpa Marcus—I'm going all out!" Sean said suddenly.
"What—?!" Marcus was about to Apparate again, but the words broke his rhythm. He stared at the boy, eyes wide.
And at the same time, he realized it wasn't that he couldn't feel his legs—
They were tangled in vines that had appeared from nowhere. Worse, transfigured stone had clamped down hard around his calves.
Sean forced his weary body upright, but his eyes only grew sharper.
"Grandpa Marcus—watch out."
His robes snapped in the cold wind. A fierce light burst from his wand tip.